That’s just life in the big city.

Are you allowed to change?

What if I don’t want to settle for “just”?

That’s just life in the big city.

What if you like things because you’re supposed to like them? Or maybe you don’t like what you used to like. Maybe you never liked them but you just didn’t know better–or didn’t know different. Or it’s just the way it was for so long that you no longer know that there is different or better or just other.

Are we allowed to make a change? What about changes in lifestyle or even location?

What if I were to say that I didn’t miss having to empty out the car so it didn’t get broken into every night? Or maybe that I can park, for free, at a parking lot that has available spots and jump on a train and in eight minutes be in a cool city?

Does that make it wrong or bad or I-don’t-know-what that I don’t miss the big city? That I don’t miss looking over my shoulder when walking down the street at night? Should it be normal to triple check my front door lock when we leave for the weekend? Maybe it’s me. Maybe I should toughen up and deal with it.

Is a break acceptable? What if the break goes longer than “expected”? What if it’s a break from something it turns out you didn’t actually enjoy but you didn’t know it because you didn’t know anything else? Because you never took a break? Or maybe you took a break but didn’t know that you were allowed to not like what you didn’t like? Allowed? Not even pressure from peers, but pressure from your self, your past?

I left the car door unlocked. There are things in the car at night. We can walk the dog at midnight and not worry about getting mugged.

The relief is palpable. The ease is like breeze through an open window. The sense of safety, even if it’s relative, even if it’s perceived is just it–the opposite of the sense of fear. The sense, the perception, it’s what matters, doesn’t it?

I feel like I need to stop before “I say something I regret.” But that seems silly. How can we regret saying what we believe? Or is it the perception of what we believe? Where do they merge? Intersect?

I don’t even feel like I can really let it out. As if I were betraying where I’m from. Or maybe because we’ll probably move back and I don’t want to have admitted to not wanting to be there. Or maybe things will change. Maybe I’ll change. Or change back. Or that’s just the way it is. I should rewrite this post in 6 months.